


The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak

by severity_softly



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:26:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5666023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severity_softly/pseuds/severity_softly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vince can't sleep after the nightmare he and Howard shared on the island. When he decides the best remedy is to share a bed with Howard, things get interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare After The Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tag to the end of "The Nightmare of Milky Joe", and part 1 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets. Also, I can't recall if there's evidence to support them sharing a bedroom or not, but I just thought the idea that they did was cute. If it's wrong, just consider this slightly AU. :) Betaed by Innerslytherin because she loves me. Originally published in August 2009.

The milk. He could still see it dripping out of Precious' head, and covering Howard's hands. His heart was thudding against his chest. The coco-cops would be here soon enough. They were done for.

Vince gasped and shot upright in bed, his sheets a tangled mess. He reached up and touched his head automatically, certain his hair was just as tragic. Then he threw himself back in bed before he convinced himself to go straighten it out, and sighed. The coco-nightmares weren't gone. They might be just beginning.

Vince turned his head and looked over at Howard, who seemed to be asleep in his bed across the room. His eyes were closed, anyway, and Vince took a moment to watch him. He looked so peaceful, and Vince wondered how he'd managed it. He looked back at the ceiling and willed himself to be as peaceful, but his heart kept thumping, and after a while he was fidgeting, playing with the hem of the sheets, flexing his feet in rhythm. Finally, he sighed again and looked back at Howard.

"Howard?" he asked. When Howard didn't answer right away, Vince picked up the pen on his nightstand and threw it at him, then shifted quickly to look at the ceiling when Howard stirred.

"Vince?" Howard mumbled.

"Oh, are you up, Howard?" Vince said innocently.

"Nghh," Howard grunted.

"Me too." 

Vince's lips twisted and he played with the sheet some more, watching Howard. Howard's eyes slipped shut again, and after a few moments, he drew a long, relaxed breath.

" _Howard_ ," Vince called, and this time Howard jumped out of his light sleep.

"What _is it_?"

Vince watched him another moment. Howard was going to think he was stupid. "Nothing," he muttered. When Howard sighed and settled again, Vince blurted, "Do you reckon that really was a nightmare?"

"Yes, Vince," Howard mumbled.

"How come it was on the telly when we came home then?"

"Probably just after effects."

Vince bit his lip. "You dreamt about Milky Joe?"

"Mm-hmm," Howard hummed, and dragged the blanket over his head.

"And Ruby and Precious?" Vince asked. "And what she'd done to you?" Vince saw Howard still under his covers, and Vince knew that was a yes. "I sort of wanted to punch her for that," he said. "But I'm glad you did, Howard. You needed to stick up for yourself."

Howard threw the blanket off him and glared at Vince. "I didn't _punch_ her. She fell down."

Vince nodded, then said, "Right," not really believing it.

"Now go to sleep," Howard said.

"Right."

Vince let the silence fill the room, and he looked out their window at the moon. He could almost make out its face, but that only reminded him of the coconuts' round heads, and their beady eyes. More beady than Howard's even.

"Howard." 

Howard growled under his covers, but Vince ignored it. 

"If we were both asleep, both having nightmares, how do you reckon we had the exact same one?" Vince waited for an answer, but when it didn't come, he went on. "I mean, we've been close for ages, but what are the odds we'd have the same dream? And then what are the odds we'd both see them on telly at the same time? Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe there really is a race of mutant, rabid coconuts out there, and the captain just told us it was a coco-nightmare to keep us quiet."

"What do _I_ have to say to keep _you_ quiet?"

Vince frowned. "Get stuffed," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Vince, it's three in the morning," Howard complained.

"Yeah, well... I had another nightmare, all right?" Vince huffed.

"What do you expect me to do about it?"

"I dunno," Vince admitted, them bit his lip and frowned at the ceiling, thinking for a moment. "Could I sleep in your bed tonight?"

"What, swap beds?"

"In your bed _with you_ , you idiot," Vince said, and got out of his bed to walk across the room without waiting for a yes.

"I don't like to be touched," Howard protested, but Vince just pulled the covers back and climbed in.

"Well, scoot back, then. I won't touch you." Vince dragged the covers up and tucked them under his chin. He could hear Howard behind him, his breath tight, like he wasn't sure what to do now, but Vince felt a smile curl on his lips. This was comfortable. Really comfortable.

He closed his eyes, but didn't go right to sleep. He had a feeling Howard might wait for him to sleep, then shove him out or switch beds. So Vince just smiled and listened to Howard's breathing until it evened out and deepened. Then Howard's body went slack.

"Howard?" Vince whispered, and Howard didn't respond.

Vince's smile turned into a grin. He snuggled against Howard, his back to Howard's chest, and was pleased when Howard mumbled something in his sleep and automatically put an arm around him. _Don't like to be touched_ , Vince thought. _Right_.

Vince closed his eyes again and relaxed. This was much better. Vince thought he could definitely sleep without any more nightmares now.


	2. The Engine of an Aeroplane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard wakes up with Vince in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published August 2009, and part 2 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets. Betaed by innerslytherin, who was grudgingly humoring my new fandom obsession. There is also a probably pathetic attempt at a crimp in this one. Please forgive me. :)

Howard woke up with the smell of something sweet and slightly spicy in his nostrils. It was a familiar smell, a comforting smell, but his sleep-fogged mind couldn't place it. He sucked in a deeper whiff of it, then flinched when something tickled his nose.

His eyes flew open. _Oh, dear God_. The night before flooded back to him. Vince was in bed with him. His nose was practically buried in Vince's hair; his arm was draped over Vince's waist... And he was rock hard. _Oh God_.

He tensed automatically, unmoving, but Vince must have felt in anyway.

"Hv'I ever told you that you snore, Howard?" Vince murmured.

For a moment, all Howard could manage to do was listen to the thudding of his heart. It seemed to resonate through his whole body.

"On the other side of the room," Vince continued sleepily, "it's pretty quiet, but when it's right in my ear it's a bit like standing under the engine of an aeroplane that keeps stopping and starting."

Howard wasn't sure if he was imagining things or not, but he could have sworn he felt Vince shift back against him.

"I didn't mind, really. It was a little soothing. You have perfect rhythm, even unconscious," Vince mumbled. " _Schnrr... schnrr_ ," he mimicked, then went on with a melody, bouncing a little in the bed, " _Schnrr_ , shika comma latte. _Schnrr_ , just like Liberace, _schnrr_ , eating calamari. _Schnrr, Schnrr_ , wiggle like a jelly fish, ooh! _Schnrr_ , sleeping in a little box, ooh! _Schnrr_ \-- It was brilliant, Howard; I kept expecting you to join in, but you sleep like the dead!"

Howard was still more concerned about the erection fitted snugly against the man in his bed. "Vince, I didn't mean to--" he started, then Vince shook his head.

"You were asleep. Anyway, I don't care," Vince said. Then, to Howard's horror, he wiggled his ass against Howard's erection.

Howard suddenly realized he was still holding Vince, and pushed him away quickly. "Don't."

Vince laughed and rolled away. "All right. You don't have to _shove_ ," he complained lightly, and shifted to face Howard. 

Howard sucked in a breath at the sight of him. His hair was a mess and he wasn't wearing any make-up. It was beautiful. Maybe because almost no one ever saw Vince like this but him.

"Look, even if you are attracted to me, it's okay."

"It is?" Howard blurted, and wished he could take it back when a cheeky smile grew on Vince's face. "I mean, I'm not. Howard Moon is a ladies man, sir."

"Right," Vince said. "I've never even seen you with a girl."

"I'm selective," Howard protested.

"Selective?" Vince repeated, looking amused. "What about that fox you were bumming?"

"That was a _rumor_ , and an untrue one at that," Howard whispered angrily, then started to shove again. "Get out."

Vince was giggling now, and he grabbed Howard's wrists. "Or what?"

Howard growled and pushed again, and when Vince fell out of bed, Howard had to go with him to keep from getting his arms bent backwards. He landed on Vince, who groaned, then he rolled over onto his back next to Vince. He sat up immediately and tugged the bottom of his night shirt to straighten himself out.

"You love me," Vince teased, and nudged Howard with his knee from where he was still laying on the floor.

"I don't--"

"Yes you do. You told me once," Vince said. Howard could still hear the grin in his voice.

"Yeah, well I love you a lot less now than I did then."

Vince sat up then, smiling at Howard. He lifted his hand and twirled a lock of Howard's hair around his finger. "You need a hair cut."

Howard jumped to his feet, glad his erection was starting to wane. "You stay away from me."

Vince snickered. "Or what?"

"You don't want Howard Moon to unleash his wrath upon you, sir," Howard threatened.

"What are you gonna do? Jazz me to death?" Vince said.

"Maybe I will," Howard retorted.

"How are you gonna keep me from just walkin' away?"

"Maybe I'll tie you up."

Vince's eyelids lowered into a seductive expression. "You kinky bitch. I had no idea."

A jolt of _something_ went through Howard at Vince's expression, and then his cheeks heated. "Just... stay away from my hair," he stammered.

Vince held up his hands in surrender, his grin dimming a little. "All right. Fine. I'll just let you continue to look like you've been stranded on a desert island."

"I _have_ been," Howard said, then sighed and sat down on the edge of Vince's bed. Vince looked suddenly more subdued, sitting cross-legged and picking at the hem of his sleeve. "Did you have any more nightmares?" Howard asked after the room was silent for a few moments.

Vince looked up at him, then back down, his smile going suddenly shy. "No," he said quietly.

Howard nodded, wishing he didn't feel oddly proud of that. "Good." He paused, then in spite of himself added, "Do you think you can sleep in your own bed tonight?" Vince looked back up again and shrugged, but didn't look away again. Howard nodded once more, then gestured at the door. "Naboo's probably making breakfast."

"Yeah," Vince said, then smiled again when Howard offered a hand up.

 

That night, Howard wasn't the least bit surprised to find Vince in his bed before even he got there.


	3. With Eyes Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bollo notices something is up, things don't exactly end prettily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by innerslytherin, who was grudgingly humoring my new fandom obsession. Originally pubished August 2009, and part 3 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets.

Vince knew he was milking it, but he couldn't really help it. The nightmares stopped all together, but he still climbed into Howard's bed for almost two weeks after they got back from the island. Howard seemed to mind less and less, and Vince was fairly certain they were both getting something out of it... until Bollo said something strange one night.

"Bollo cannot tell difference anymore with eyes closed."

Vince frowned. Bollo was looking between him and Howard. Vince glanced at Howard, who seemed to understand whatever Bollo was trying to say better than he did. Howard looked tense.

"What are you on about?" Vince finally asked, when Howard didn't speak.

"Vince used to smell sweet and spicy. Howard musky. Now both smell like mixture."

Naboo looked up from his hookah. "About time, really," he said, smoke curling out of his mouth with his words. "You two have been this close to having it off since I met you," he added, holding up his thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart.

"We're not having it off!" Howard protested, and shifted away from Vince on the sofa. It wasn't a huge shift, but Vince turned a glare on him, feeling a little betrayed. Even if they weren't having sex, the idea that Howard was trying to act like he didn't even really want to be near Vince, when Vince knew damn well that was a lie, got his back up.

"We're just sleeping together is all," Vince said, knowing vindictively that it would make Howard more tense. Maybe it wasn't the best strategy, but Vince suddenly found himself angry. Howard was either totally oblivious to the advances he'd been trying to make, or he was disregarding Vince's feelings right now out of... what? Embarrassment? _Why shouldn't I disregard his?_

"In the same bed," Howard said. "Just sleeping in the same bed."

Vince crossed his arms over himself and slouched. "Did all those times you held me mean nothing to you?" he asked dramatically. Now he was pushing it. Howard was staring at him, seemingly unable to think of anything to say. Naboo and Bollo exchanged meaningful glances across from them. _Fuck it._ "All those times you whispered sweet nothings in my ear?" he went on, even though that part wasn't necessarily true.

"I did not!" Howard stammered. "I-- did-- He's lying!" he finally told Naboo.

Naboo just looked at Bollo. "Maybe we should go."

Bollo tilted his head at Naboo. "Why? This just getting good."

Naboo gave him a stern look, and Bollo sighed and stood. 

"Vince, you give Bollo details later," Bollo said.

"Yeah, all right," Vince replied, and watched as Naboo gave him a disapproving look and herded Bollo out of the room.

Howard shifted on the couch, bringing his knee up between them so he could face Vince. "What was that about?" he demanded. "'Sweet nothings'?!"

"Yeah, so what?" Vince snapped.

"I don't whisper sweet nothings!" Howard hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"Don't you?" Vince said, then lifted his eyebrows when Howard froze and just blinked at him for a moment.

"N-- I-- do I?" Howard stammered. It would have been really funny if Vince wasn't already angry.

"Do you want to?" Vince pushed.

"Vince... whatever I said-- or didn't say-- I was asleep," Howard said, sounding like he was trying to even his voice out again. "I know how it might have made you feel. I know how... _magnetic_ I can be."

"Get stuffed," Vince snapped. "You're the least magnetic person I know. _I'm_ magnetic."

Howard ignored that and went on. "Whatever my body did was just friction."

"You're repellent; that's what you are," Vince said, ignoring Howard right back. "You've repelled everyone you've ever met except me."

"It's not your fault, Vince," Howard continued. "I never meant to break your heart."

Vince's mouth dropped open at that, and he turned to gape at Howard. "You are _such_ a wanker," he blurted. "You're sleeping on the couch."

"The couch?!"

Vince stood and started to go to their bedroom, and he heard Howard get up and follow him. 

"Don't want to even hear you snore tonight," he announced over his shoulder.

"Vince," Howard started, and Vince turned on him so fast Howard had to do a funny little backward step to keep from running into him.

"Would it really be that bad?" Vince said, his eyes fixed on Howard's.

Howard's eyes were doing that darting thing they always did. He wouldn't look at Vince. "What?" he asked after a long silence, but Vince could tell he knew what was being asked.

"You and me together?"

Howard's eyes shifted left, then right. Up, then right again. Then his face scrunched in that way that meant he was probably trying to decided whether to be honest or not.

"That's about what I thought you'd say," Vince said.

"I didn't say any--"

"I know!" Vince stepped inside their room and slammed the door, then he leaned against it and listened to Howard call his name pathetically on the other side.

 _Get a grip, Vince_ , he told himself. _You've gone mad._ But he couldn't really quell the hurt he was feeling. Finally he huffed a breath and went to Howard's bed. He dragged the blanket off and took the pillow, then went back to the door. Howard gave him a tentative smile when he opened it, but he just tossed the blanket over Howard's head. While Howard was covered, he threw the pillow at Howard's face, and watched him flinch.

"Good night," he snapped, and shut the door again.


	4. Lipstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spray painted messages on the outside of the shop hadn't started as a joke at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a tag to "Eels". Originally published August 2009, and part 4 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets.

The spray painted messages on the outside of the shop hadn't started as a joke at all. When Vince, Howard, Naboo, and Bollo all moved to the Nabootique, it was _Vince_ that insisted he and Howard get separate bedrooms this time. He didn't want the temptation of crawling in bed with a man unwilling to admit his feelings for him.

Things were getting more normal for them, but Vince still felt a little betrayed. And since, for some reason, Vince never could seem to stay angry with Howard very long when they were _together_ , Vince decided to express his anger another way when Howard wasn't around.

_Howard Moon wears frilly knickers for money._

_Howard Moon will dip his bits in jam and let you lick it off._

Vince got to say something catty without actually getting in a fight. Then he got to watch Howard get in a strop about it and scrub the words off, only for new ones to reappear the next day. After a while it just got funny. It was definitely more therapeutic than Vince had expected, and his anger started to ebb away quickly.

_Howard Moon is hung like a donkey. Inquire inside._

By the time Howard found out Vince was behind it all, Vince was feeling better enough about their relationship that he actually felt a little guilty. Even if he was still amused. The amusement was just more difficult to muster when Howard was threatening to kill him.

Thankfully Howard got dragged off by the student loan people before that happened, and _that_ was funny. Funny for a few hours, anyway, until Vince realized Howard hadn't come back. He went and sat behind the counter at the shop and waited, fiddling with the elbow patches. He played with Stapler Paul and Paper Clip Harry for a while, then put them back in Stationary Village where he thought they went. He beat out a random rhythm on the counter until he started to get tired and put his head down.

 

 

Vince jerked awake to the sound of the shop door opening some time later, and lifted a hand to his hair, dragging his fingers through it before rubbing at his eyes. He blinked, and was relieved to see Howard was standing just inside the shop. He looked like he'd been gutted. He still had lipstick smeared on his face that he must have missed the night before too.

"Howard," Vince said, standing and trying to shake the fog of dreams from his head.

"It was awful," Howard said, his voice hollow.

Vince frowned. "Howard," he repeated, and walked over to touch Howard's cheek. That snapped Howard out of his daze.

"Don't touch me," he said, looking at Vince.

"You look a mess," Vince said, withdrawing his hand. He could push the physical boundaries sometimes, but other times it wasn't a good idea. Considering whatever Howard had just been through with the student loan people, on top of unwillingly prostituting himself and nearly being killed earlier, Howard was having a bad couple of days. "You still have red on you," Vince said after a moment, pointing at a smudge of lipstick.

"The things they did, Vince. They were unspeakable," Howard muttered, walking toward the counter.

Vince followed. "What'd they do?"

"I just said it was unspeakable," Howard said tersely.

Vince nodded. "Oh, right."

Howard stopped and stared at Stationary Village for a moment, then lifted a hand to point at Stapler Paul, gaping and making funny squeaking noises as if appalled. _Shit_ , Vince thought, but then Howard just let out a shaky breath and snatched one of his elbow patches off the display. He started to wipe at the lipstick on his face with it. 

He was worse off than Vince had originally thought. He'd chosen the muffin coloured one, so the red of the lipstick didn't even begin to blend in.

"You're not going to get it off like that," Vince said, and grabbed Howard's elbow. Howard didn't protest. Vince suppressed a smile badly; he was always telling Vince not to touch him, then letting Vince touch him a few moments later.

Vince pulled Howard toward his bedroom, and Howard tensed. "What are we doing?"

Vince pursed his lips, but didn't answer. He just dragged Howard in front of the mirror in his room. He left him there and then went to get make up remover. When he came back, he started wiping at Howard's face, ignoring the way Howard instantly frowned and turned to stare at him as if he didn't understand what was happening.

"I'm still mad at you," Howard said a moment later. "You left me with that woman. You wrote all those things about me."

"It was just a joke," Vince said, glancing up to meet Howard's eyes. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and took a moment to adjust his hair from where sleeping at the counter had mussed it, then he looked back to the corner of Howard's mouth where he was wiping.

"It wasn't funny," Howard said, but his voice was still oddly gentle, almost as if he was entranced by what Vince was doing.

"Bollo and I thought it was pretty genius, actually," Vince replied, grinning.

"Bollo?" Howard said, tensing and pulling back slightly. Vince just grabbed his arm and held him still.

"Stop flinching," he said.

"I'm not _flinching_."

"You _always_ flinch," Vince said, then looked back up at Howard. He sort of wanted to kiss him after what had happened in the last twenty-four hours, but that was too much. Instead he put his hand on Howard's waist. And Howard _flinched_. "See?"

"Vince..."

Vince leaned in and hugged him, and Howard's entire body went stiff as a board. 

"Forgive me," Vince murmured. It wasn't really a request; it was more of a gentle order.

Howard made a strangled noise, and didn't return the hug... but he still managed to mutter, "I always do."


	5. The Brain Cell That Wouldn't Shut Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard can't get what Vince's brain cell told him out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tag to "Journey to the Centre of a Punk". Originally published August 2009, and part 5 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets.

Vince only had one brain cell. That was... not entirely unexpected, but slightly concerning. When Howard had told Naboo that Vince was a borderline simpleton, he hadn't been far off, apparently. What was more concerning than the lack of brainpower Vince was capable of, however, was what Vince's brain cell had told Howard when he had been inside Vince.

_'I do swing both ways.'_

It had sent a funny little jolt through Howard that he couldn't explain. Of course, he couldn't really explore the feeling very well when he was being chased by a murderous Jazz Cell anyway.

When Howard and Lester had expanded back to full size, and the Jazz Cell was gone, off to die a slow death of some punk disease, Vince had jumped up and threw his arms around Howard. It was the second time Vince had hugged him in a couple of weeks, and it was slightly less alarming this time, but not by much.

Howard stiffened, lifted his arms to touch Vince, then put them back down before he did.

"You saved my life, Howard!" Vince said, then pulled back to look at him. 

"I helped," Lester announced.

Vince glanced at him and smiled. "Cheers," he said, then looked back at Howard. "That outfit is brilliant!" He gripped Howard's shoulders and looked him up and down. Howard felt his face heat. He pulled back out of Vince's grip quickly, but Vince just kept looking at him. 

"Oh, this is much better than those awful cardigans and patterned shirts you normally wear. I knew it was only a matter of time living with my influence before you started to come 'round to my way of thinking." Vince laughed, nodding approvingly. "The scuba look. I _knew_ it'd be the next new thing."

"I haven't _come 'round_. There's nothing wrong with the way I dress," Howard protested. He saw Naboo and Bollo exchange a look, and frowned deeply.

"Well, not _now_ ," Vince said.

"I think these are pretty sexy," Lester said, stroking his hands up and down his body.

"Yeah, well, you can't see, can you?" Howard replied.

"It _feels_ sexy." Lester made a purring sound, stroking his chest and giggling. "Come on, Howard, have fun with it."

"I can't have fun with it. I'm covered in Vince's bodily fluids!" Howard snapped.

Lester just kept touching himself, but Vince pressed his lips together as if he was trying not to laugh. Bollo outright snickered, turning his head as if that disguised it. Howard felt himself go hotter when he realized why they were laughing.

"Oh, sod off," he said, then stormed off toward his room. Vince could deal with all the dead punks in the doorway himself.

Howard shut his door and immediately peeled himself out of the wet suit, then headed to the shower where he turned the water on as hot as he could stand it and stepped under the spray.

 _'I do swing both ways... I do swing both ways... I do swing both ways,'_ Vince's brain cell kept repeating in Howard's head, and Howard found himself getting inexplicably hard.

He slumped against the wall of the shower, his forehead resting against his forearm and water streaming down his back, and stared down at his cock.

"You're ridiculous," he told it. "Yes, well, I know what he-- _it_ \--said, but that doesn't mean anything to me. Anyway, it also said it wasn't really 'feeling it' with me."

_'I do swing both ways.'_

Howard sighed as his erection pulsed with need. "Stop it," he instructed, but his body didn't listen. "I know it's been a while since you and I have been intimate, but that doesn't mean-- This is Vince we're talking about here. _Vince_ ," he argued, but his prick was having none of it.

"All right. Fine. You win. Let's just get it over with, shall we?" he said irritably, then he closed his eyes and curled his fingers around his cock.

He tried to think of the last woman he'd been attracted to, or the cute girl at the corner shop, or even Mrs. Gideon, though it'd been a while since he'd even seen her... _anyone_... but all that kept popping into his mind was the way Vince felt against him in bed, the way he was oddly sexy when he was scat singing, and how Vince had hugged him the day he'd come back from his nightmare with the student loans people. The brilliant blue of Vince's eyes crossed Howard's mind's eye, the smell of Vince's hair...

Soon Howard's body was tightening with pleasure. He stroked hard and fast until white streaked his hand and the shower wall, and then his body went limp.

"Oh, God," he panted, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, his body vibrating with the aftershocks of his orgasm. After a moment, he slumped down and sat on the shower floor, running his fingers through his hair and letting the water pelt the top of his head.

When the water started to turn cold, the gentle hum of pleasure he was feeling got washed away, and he reached forward to turn the water off, then stood to get out of the shower. He dried himself, and then wiped the steam off the mirror and looked at himself.

It wasn't until then that it really hit him what he'd just done. He'd fantasized about _Vince_. 

He sucked in a breath that didn't want to come, reaching up to touch his own reflection. He pointed straight at his eyes, even if he only really touched his own finger in the mirror. "Don't you do this to me, sir. I'm Howard Moon. I'm a... I'm..." He trailed off, unsure how he'd meant to finish that. 

Clearly something horrible had happened to him when he'd been swimming around inside of Vince. That was the only possible explanation for this.


	6. Wife and... Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince doesn't exactly get what he wants when he decides to take a chance the night after the crimp off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tag to "The Power of the Crimp", and part 6 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets. Betaed by innerslytherin, who was reading this for me against her will, the darling.

They collapsed on the floor of Vince's room after the gig. Vince couldn't help laughing, and Howard's smile was broad. They'd blown Lance Dior and Harold Boom off the map. They were _it_ again. Well, _Vince_ was it. Howard had never been it to begin with, but he hung out with Vince, so that was close enough.

They went on for a bit about how well they'd done in the crimp off and how fantastic the look on Lance and Harold's face had been, and then they fell silent for a long time, Howard's face turning thoughtful after a while, while Vince just stared at the ceiling, grinning and replaying the night's events in his mind.

Vince wasn't really sure how long they'd been laying there when Howard's words cut through the silence. "Am I really like your wife?" he blurted.

Vince rolled his head to meet Howard's eyes. "Yeah," he said, a laugh running through his words as he remembered what Lance had said to Howard the first time they'd met. _Word on the street is you are his wife. Cook his food, straighten his hair, bake him little cakes..._

Howard pressed his lips together and looked back at the ceiling. "I'm not sure if that's better or worse than being your handbag."

Vince laughed. "I told you I didn't mean it like that." He reached over and nudged Howard, watching Howard's eyes dart to his hand, then back up. "You take care of me, Howard. And I can put stuff in you... like a bag. You're always there, holding everything." Howard was frowning in confusion.

"What, like eyeliner?" Howard asked, his tone grumpy.

"No," Vince said. "I can't explain it, but it's more abstract than that. It's like... I just... put things in you."

"Stop saying that," Howard said, his voice oddly tight.

Vince eyed him for a moment, then grinned again. "Why?"

"It just... sounds weird."

 _Oh_. Vince's grin went wider, and then he snickered and rolled over onto his side. Howard had been a little more awkward with him lately. Not much, but enough that Vince had a feeling he knew why, and it only spurred Vince on. "Got something you're not telling me, Howard?" he said, poking Howard in the ribs.

"Don't touch me," Howard said, but didn't move.

Vince didn't move either. He wasn't sure what attracted him to Howard. Howard was fussy, anal retentive, a jazz freak, and had an appalling fashion sense. He had beady eyes, he usually avoided physical affection, he was broody, and his hair was an utter disaster area. 

But he was always there. Always.

Maybe that was it.

Vince left his fingertips touching Howard's side, and watched him for a moment. Then he shifted closer and slid his leg over so that the length of his shin pressed up against Howard's calf, his foot cradled under Howard's. Howard looked frozen, staring at him, but he wasn't pulling away.

Vince sucked in a breath, his heart speeding as he realized this might be the calmest Howard would get touching like. Until Howard got used to it. God, he hoped Howard would get used to it. Of course, that was all dependent on whether or not Howard ever let Vince get over _this_ particular hurdle.

He shifted closer again, his eyes falling to Howard's lips, moving slowly. He almost laughed--it was like approaching a frightened animal; Howard, the big chicken--but he managed to keep it in. "Howard," he murmured instead, his tone questioning, and then he made the mistake of letting his hand slide to Howard's stomach before he got close enough to actually kiss him.

Howard jerked, then bolted upright to a seated position next to Vince, and Vince held a sigh.

"I have to-- I forgot I have to meet Lester."

"It's two o'clock in the morning," Vince protested, and sat up to look at Howard.

"Best time to listen to Coltrane, sir. Under the light of the full moon."

"The moon _isn't_ full tonight," Vince said, and followed Howard when he stood.

"I can't expect you to understand," Howard said, turning to look at Vince. He was putting on that face again, the mask that he thought protected him. The one Vince knew full well he'd already seen underneath of, even if Howard wouldn't admit it.

"What? I can't understand the difference between a full moon and a sliver?"

Howard looked at Vince for a moment, then looked out the window at the moon. "You just don't get it."

"Yeah, you keep saying that, but I think it's you who's utterly confused," Vince said. He wasn't really talking about the moon now, but Howard probably wouldn't realize that.

"Oh, is that right?" Howard said, straightening up to his full height.

"Yeah," Vince said, following suit and wishing he still had his heels on. "Anyway, Lester is like nine hundred years old. He's not gonna be awake this time of night!"

"I don't think I like your tone very much right now, sir," Howard said, scowling. "Lester's older, but he's full of sprite."

Vince scrunched his nose. "He doesn't even like Sprite. He drinks coffee. How do you think he has so much energy? There's no caffeine in Sprite."

"Lester doesn't need caffeine. He's high on life."

"He's high on _something_ ," Vince said, sarcasm creeping into his voice.

"He's high on jazz," Howard replied.

Vince snorted. "Funny. Jazz always puts me to sleep."

"You'd better be careful what you say, sir," Howard threatened, pointing his finger in Vince's face. "One day I might just put you on a jazz plane and fly you straight to the moon."

Vince's face scrunched. "What does that even mean?"

Howard opened his mouth, then shut it, his eyes darting away. Vince pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. Howard was disgustingly cute when he couldn't think of a comeback.

"What were we talking about?" Howard said finally.

"You have to go," Vince reminded him.

Howard suddenly looked affronted. "Well, that's not a very subtle hint."

"What?!" Vince said, his mouth dropping open.

"I'll take my leave of you now, so as not to waste any more of your time," Howard said, sounding _actually_ hurt.

"Howard," Vince started to protest, but Howard had immediately turned and left the room.

Vince watched the door shut, and then heaved a sigh, collapsing onto his bed and dropping his head in his hands. Maybe it was time to just accept that Howard wasn't going to come around.


	7. Guillotine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Vince talk after rescuing Naboo from execution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tag to "The Strange Tale of the Crack Fox", and part 7 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets. Betaed by innerslytherin. Originally published August 2009.

"It was sort of your fault," Vince said some time after they'd gotten back home from their ordeal with the Crack Fox. He'd collapsed in his chair with a magazine while Howard had set about tidying up.

Howard had been straightening Stationary Village. He was pretty sure that fox stole Highlighter Harry, even if he wasn't sure what it could have wanted with the bright blue knight. Maybe he'd initially read the instructions on Naboo's bottle wrong and thought it said 'highlight' instead of 'moon light'. Not that it mattered now.

Howard spared a moment to mourn the thought of Harry wasting away in the sewers, then turned a confused frown on Vince. "What?"

"Nothing," Vince said, turning back to his magazine.

"No, what?"

Vince put the magazine down in his lap and looked back at Howard. "I said 'it was sort of your fault.'"

Howard's mouth fell open a little. " _What_?"

"It was sort of your fault," Vince repeated. "Howard, I'm starting to think you need a hearing aid. I mean, I know you're sensitive about your age, but--"

" _My fault_?!"

Vince laughed and nodded. "Now you're getting it."

"How is it my fault?" Howard demanded, turning to face Vince fully and straightening to his full height.

"You _did_ send me out to clean the rubbish up. You know people like me aren't made for that sort of thing. I'm made to sit around and look good."

For a moment, Howard found himself agreeing, and he tilted his head and nodded. "Fair enough." But then the reality of what happened hit him again. "Wait, no. You let a crack addicted fox into the shop, let him steal Naboo's potion, then let Naboo fire me for a cape, and it's _my_ fault?"

"I did say 'sort of,'" Vince said, giving Howard a sheepish look.

"No, it's not sort of my fault. It's _entirely_ your fault, sir," Howard said.

"Who sent me out back to pick up the rubbish?" Vince said.

"Who threw it out there in the first place instead of disposing of it in a designated refuse area?" Howard retorted.

Vince frowned, his expression thoughtful, then he nodded. "Yeah."

"That's right, 'yeah.'"

"Tonight was sort of exciting, though," Vince said, smiling again. It sometimes amazed Howard how quickly Vince could change emotions like that. He'd just gone from defensive, to thoughtful, to cheerful again all in about thirty seconds. "It was like playing superheroes."

"Naboo almost got killed," Howard replied, his voice flat.

"Yeah," Vince said, laughing. "They actually had a guillotine! Isn't that brilliant? I mean, who uses a guillotine in this day and age?!"

Howard just stared at him.

"Calm down, Howard" Vince said. He stood and crossed the room, then hopped onto the counter. When he turned on it to face Howard, that rubbery _thing_ he was wearing squeaked against the glass. "Everything's all right now."

"I just cleaned that," Howard said, gesturing at where Vince was sitting on the counter.

"You can clean it again," Vince said.

"Oh, thanks," Howard said, his tone falsely casual.

"Anyway, Naboo's not even mad at us anymore," Vince said.

"Yes, I am," Naboo said, his voice drifting in from the next room.

Vince made a face, snickering like a kid whose secret had just been found out, and then he whispered, "You know he'll light one up later tonight, and he'll forget everything."

"I can still hear you, ballbag," Naboo said, shuffling out of the side room to stare at Vince.

"You love us," Vince said.

"Just you," Naboo replied.

Howard's lips thinned, but that really wasn't unexpected.

"We add character to the shop," Vince said.

"Pencil cases and feather boas?" Naboo asked, and Vince grinned and nodded. "Right. I'm off. Try not to burn the place down, yeah?"

"We wouldn't _burn it down_ ," Vince protested.

"I'd put the fire out if he tried, anyway," Howard added.

Naboo gave him a skeptical look. Howard plastered on a reassuring smile, but Naboo just left without another word.

Vince looked back at Howard, pressing his lips together in an obvious attempt to keep from grinning.

"What are you so happy about?" Howard snapped, even if he knew it didn't really take much at all to make Vince happy.

Vince's lips twisted into a wry smile. "Nothing," he said, then he buried his fingers in his hair and fluffed it. "My hair still looks really good," he said, checking himself out in the mirror behind Howard. "We ran about in the sewer and I still look _fantastic_." He lifted his legs and gestured at his boots and the bottom of his trousers. "Not a spot on them. It all just rolled off. Genius! I think I might buy one in every colour! Electric blue, neon yellow, flamingo pink..."

"Hmm," Howard hummed, wishing he could find it in himself to be more annoyed that Vince was so happy after the night they had.

"I've been meaning to tell you, though, you could really do with a wash," Vince said, and then Howard followed his gaze down to his own shoes and trousers, which were still filthy.

When Howard looked back up, Vince was giving him a suggestive look that sent a funny shiver through him. _God_. Vince hadn't touched Howard much since Howard bolted the night after the crimp off. Howard told himself fervently that he didn't miss it, but Vince kept giving him little looks like this that made Howard question if maybe he _did_ miss it.

"Do you need help?" Vince said, his grin widening.

"Wh--what?" Howard stammered, his mind quickly going to the idea of Vince in his shower with him, touching him instead of Howard having to touch himself. "Help with what?"

Vince's smiled dimmed a little, but didn't disappear. He glanced down. "Burning those trousers and shoes."

Howard's lips pulled to the side as he looked back down, fighting the unexpected disappointment. His trousers were pretty disgusting, and he might never get the sewer smell out of them. "No, I'll do it myself."

"Good. You've needed to for ages." When Howard looked back up, frowning, Vince just smiled again. "Right. I'm off to bed then." 

When he slid off the counter, he landed on his feet just inches from Howard and looked up at him for a moment. The proximity was equal parts frightening and stupidly exciting.

"Night, Howard," Vince said quietly. He stood there a moment longer. His smile went a bit funny when Howard didn't reply, but Howard felt suddenly incapable. 

Vince just nodded at the silence. "Yeah," he said, then left the room.


	8. Every Bit What It Looks Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince finally realizes his usual approach is better than caution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tag to "Party", and part 8 of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets. Betaed by the very sweet nebula99. :) Originally published August 2009.

If Vince had known taking his usual approach with things might work with Howard, he would have pounced on Howard ages ago. He usually jumped into things head first and didn't look back, but he knew Howard well enough to know that normally freaked him out. So he'd tried to be patient with him, where moving from friendship to more was concerned. Except when Vince kissed Howard to save himself from the Head Shaman, Howard _responded_. Quite enthusiastically.

Who knew it could be that _easy_ with Howard? Howard was never easy.

Of course, once they'd fallen off the roof and _that girl_ walked out to talk to Howard, Howard had tried to backtrack. When everyone left, Vince walked back into the shop, still upset. The bouncy castle enduced glee had been nice, but short-lived.

"Do it again."

Vince hadn't seen Naboo follow him in, and swung around to look at him. "Do what again?"

Naboo lifted his eyebrows and gave Vince a smiley nod. "You know."

"I--" Vince started, then stopped. His mouth dropped open a bit, then he managed, "How did you know?"

"I'm a shaman. I can read your mind. Always could," Naboo said.

"What?" Vince gasped. "You can read my--?"

"No, you idiot," Naboo said, a smile crossing his face that held a hint of mischief. "Bollo was out the back, heard Howard yelling."

"Oh," Vince said, his shoulders relaxing. "Doesn't matter; it's over now."

"Do it again," Naboo repeated, then disappeared up the stairs.

Vince sighed and pressed his hands to the counter, thinking, though nothing came to mind. The back door of the shop opened and closed after a moment, then Howard was standing next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Vince said.

"And I'm David Bowie's great uncle," Howard said flatly.

Vince brightened for a moment, turning to smile at Howard. "Are you?"

Howard closed his eyes and drew a slow breath. "No," he said, then opened his eyes to look at Vince.

Vince deflated again and glared. "Thought you were a massive gayist," he muttered.

"You acted like I'd gone wrong," Howard retorted.

"Yeah, well I wasn't expecting you to blurt out everything I've been thinking about us like that," Vince said. Howard's mouth opened, his expression somewhere between surprise and ready to protest, but Vince cut him off, "And then you tried to kiss me again," he added, pulling his headband off and tossing it aside.

"I didn't," Howard said.

"Oh my God, you are so stupid. That's how we fell off the roof, Howard! What else would 'pucker up' mean?!" Vince demanded.

Howard stared at him like a deer in headlights for a moment, and Vince let out an exasperated huff of breath. _Do it again_ , he though. _Fuck it_. He closed the distance between them and pressed Howard against the counter. Howard opened his mouth to say something, but Vince covered it with his own, pulling Howard down into a kiss.

It was gentle at first, because Howard had tensed, but Vince just kept kissing his lower lip and the corner of his mouth, his hands sliding up Howard's back. He ghosted his lips over Howard's jaw, feeling Howard start to melt, and then he tossed Howard's hat off and buried his hand in Howard's wispy hair. When his lips met Howard's again, Howard finally responded and kissed him back, making a noise that somehow sounded half unsure and half relieved.

"Ahhh..." a low gravelly voice sounded from behind Vince, sounding unsure.

Howard automatically tensed. "This is not what it looks like."

Vince's mouth dropped open, and he turned to look at Bollo without letting go of Howard. "This is every bit what it looks like," he argued.

"No it isn't," Howard said, and Vince pulled him down to kiss him hard.

This time, Howard seemed to have more trouble resisting it, and kissed back. His hands lifted to Vince's hips, but his arms were stiff, like he couldn't decide whether to push Vince away or not.

"Bollo should go," Bollo said, and at the same time Vince agreed, Howard protested.

Vince pulled back to look at him. "You kinky bitch. Never expected you'd want to be watched," he said, grinning.

"Bollo would rather gouge his eyes out," Bollo said, and Vince heard him leave.

He looped his arm around Howard's neck and kissed him again. "'The molten sexual tension'?" he murmured between kisses.

"I was joking," Howard said, but he was leaning into the kisses now, his arm sliding around Vince's waist.

"Howard?" Vince said.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," Vince replied, then pressed hungry lips Howard's again.


	9. Double Standard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince isn't particularly happy when Howard runs off to work for Jurgen Haabermaaster, even if the results were rather amusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tag to "The Chokes", and part 9 (the final part) of the The Arduous Wooing of a Tall Northern Jazzy Freak series of ficlets. Betaed by the lovely nebula99. Originally published August 2009.

Howard had just left. Naboo had found another tall, northern, jazzy freak with appalling fashion sense to work in the shop, but it wasn't the same, and Vince couldn't deny the hurt he felt that Howard had just _left_. Was he still running from this, from his feelings for Vince? Howard had accused him of always abandoning him for the latest shiny thing, but Howard wasn't really the type.

Of course, leaving the shop for fame _was_ tempting... but still, Howard had left Vince behind. That Howard had left only to become the Angry Crab of Trapped Wind was only a sticking plaster on the wound.

"You left," Vince blurted, once the advert had ended and the laughter had died down.

Howard sidled up on a chair near the counter. "I had to go chase my dreams, Vince," he said, lifting a hand in a rather extravagant gesture of grandeur. "You understand."

"Your dream of dancing around in a stupid costume?"

Howard's demeanor immediately changed again. "That wasn't exactly what I thought it was going to be," he muttered.

"You didn't even stick around to watch my set, Howard. I was on fire," Vince said.

"You were a bit more like an upside-down Weeble," Naboo interjected.

"Shut up," Vince snapped, but he was still looking at Howard, giving him a hurt look. "You left without a second thought."

"Uh-oh. Lover's quarrel," Bollo said.

"We're not lovers," Howard said quickly.

"We were gonna be, but now I'm not so sure," Vince grumbled, eyeing Howard and watching as his cheeks went a little pink.

Howard cleared his throat, obviously wanting Naboo and Bollo to leave, but neither of them budged. Vince wasn't much bothered. 

"You were going to do the same thing to me, sir," Howard said after he'd recovered.

"So?" Vince protested.

"Oh, what? It's okay for you to run off after stardom and not me?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a bit of a double standard?"

"Yeah," Vince said. "But that's me. _You're_ supposed to be the dependable one. That's how this works!"

"He's got a point," Naboo said, smiling faintly.

"You're not helping," Howard snapped.

"I wasn't trying to," Naboo replied.

"Oh, sod off, will you?" Howard said, glaring.

Naboo's brows lifted, but then he just nudged Bollo's arm. "Come on."

"Harold did not say Bollo too," he protested.

" _You too_ ," Howard said quickly, and Bollo sighed and shook his head. After a long moment, he stood and followed Naboo out of the room. "And it's _Howard_ ," Howard called after them, then looked back at Vince, his expression softening. "Look, I'm sorry, all right?"

"You were running away from _us_ , weren't you?" Vince said, cocking his head to one side.

Howard opened his mouth, but then didn't say anything. He just stared at Vince for a moment, and Vince could almost hear him thinking. "Maybe," Howard finally admitted.

"That's what I thought," Vince said, and stood to leave. He nearly jumped out of surprise when Howard grabbed his wrist, and his eyes darted toward their hands.

"I couldn't have stayed even if it hadn't been humiliating," Howard blurted, looking slightly terrified at his own words, but earnest.

"Right."

"I mean it," Howard said.

Vince straightened and lifted his chin. "Prove it."

Howard's mouth opened, then closed it. After a moment, he managed, "How?"

"Kiss me," Vince ordered.

"I didn't mean I was going to come back to be wi--"

"Oh my God, Howard!" Vince said, fed up, then started to pull away. As soon as he did, though, Howard yanked him back into a kiss. Vince tensed in surprised, but then melted immediately and climbed into Howard's lap... which made _Howard_ tense in surprise, though he didn't stop kissing Vince. Vince hummed a happy noise, then pulled back. "That's better."

Howard didn't seem to be able to speak suddenly. He just stared at Vince, his eyes wide. Vince couldn't help but laugh, which unstopped Howard's throat. "What?"

"You look ridiculous," Vince told him.

"Oh, well, thanks. Thank you very much," Howard said sharply, and shifted as if he wanted to get up. Vince leaned forward under the pretenses of keeping him seated, though he knew Howard could unseat him if he wanted. Howard apparently didn't want to, though, since he sat back again.

"Look, I've never held it against you before," Vince said, smiling. Howard gave him a look somewhere between offended and unsurprised. Vince's grin widened. "Don't ever leave me again," he murmured, leaning in and brushing his lips to Howard's.

Howard relaxed again, and let out a small sigh. "Yes, sir."


End file.
